


The Art of Giving

by lazywriter7



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Gen, Parent Tony Stark, Spiderman Homecoming Trailer, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 11:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazywriter7/pseuds/lazywriter7
Summary: “I…took it away.” The words whisper out, breathless and quiet.  “I..can’t. I don’t. I don’t…do that.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the new Spiderman Homecoming trailer.

When he lands, the clang echoes through the living room.

“I…I took it away.” The words whisper out, breathless and quiet. Rhodey looks up.

“I..can’t. I don’t. I don’t…do that.” _Here you go, a giant bunny. Please don’t leave. Take the suit, you’re more responsible anyway. Please don’t leave. You want a house? I’ll make you a tower. Don’t fucking leave._

Rhodey uncurls from his chair, strain lines stark on his face. Tony wishes he wouldn’t.

The words are quiet, careful. “What don’t you do, Tones?”

( _“I made a circuit board.”_ He remembers, from a distance that spans decades. Remembers the words pronounced perfectly, with not a speck of drool, not an inch of childish slurring. Remembers the hug that came in the aftermath, swift and dream-like, the smell of cigars that lingered on his collar for hours afterwards.)

“I took away the suit.” The words come out flat, unembellished. He’s still _on,_ in some part of his brain, the part that slides on Tom Ford bespoke suits early in the morning, cuffs perfectly done up, the part that coifs his hair and dabs concealer under his eyes. That part doesn’t let him check Peter over for injuries; images of that bony frame trying by sheer will to hold a splintering ship together, drawn and quartered, running behind his eyelids in bloody replay. That part doesn’t let the panic slide into his words now, the panic that has been simmering at the back of his mind ever since, _“if you’re nothing without that suit, then you shouldn’t have it,”_ and Peter’s wide, distraught eyes.

“This…have something to do with the ferry accident on TV?” Rhodey’s approached close now, step by aching step. He still looks wary.

Tony turns his head, slowly. His vision is blurry at the edges, but the warring concern twisting up Rhodey’s expression still shines through. God, he loves that face.

“Why did you take it away?” It doesn’t sound accusative, strangely enough.

“He was…going to hurt himself.” His mind feels like cotton-wool, but he somehow finds the words through the fog. Pushes them through numbed lips, leaves them lying in the air, open to judge and ridicule. “Hurt others. Not because he’d want to…he’d never want to. But because it…happens.”

(STARK, screams the bold, jagged letters in his brain, embossed on a bomb crouching in the sand. How many people would have lived, had Howard had a smarter son? A _better_ son?)

Rhodey doesn’t say anything. The silence lingers.

Tony looks at those eyes, dark and deep set, pain-ridden and honest. “He’s going to leave, isn’t he.”

(Still no panic. The words are bland. Listless.)

Rhodey doesn’t avert his gaze. “Maybe. Are you going to give it back?”

_“I’m not the boss, he’s the boss. I just pay for everything, design everything. Make everyone look cooler.”_

_“I call them Widow’s Bites_ _-_ _they’ve got a cooling system, see, here_ _-_ _so it shouldn’t burn your wrists off when you’re electrocuting a man double your size..”_

_“_ _-_ _no it’s meant for_ _-_ _yes, I am well aware you asked me not to fuck with the Shield TM, this is not me fucking with the shield, this is me making sure you can actually retrieve said shield with a flex of your hand without me needing to swan dive in the Potomac each time_ _-_ _”_

_“_ _-_ _I give you this lovely suit, pumpkin patch, and you put blasted Hammer tech on it. Veto, veto, this is me vetoing all your life decisions ever, you want upgrades, you come to me for upgrades_ _-_ _”_

_“I hereby irrevocably appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries effective immediately…I thought there’d be a legal issue, but actually I’m capable of appointing my successor. My successor being you...congratulations? Take it, just take it.”_

 

Tony’s breath lodges in his chest, sharp and tight.

_“If you’re nothing without that suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”_

He breathes.

 

“No.”

 

There’s another exhale to match his, and _there_ are Rhodey’s drawn eyes, and there is his shoulder coming to meet Tony’s forehead, there his warm, broad hand cradling the back of Tony’s skull as he pitches forward and closes his eyes. Smells metal, and books fresh out of the printing press, and the carbonic sting of medicinal ointment. No cigars.

 

Tony can feel Rhodey’s chest vibrate as he speaks, warm breath ruffling over the top of his head. “I’m proud of you.”


End file.
